SQUACKIN!
by Sulkie Wolfen
Summary: The Scarred Queen and King Nala. On sexual confusion. This is super duper self-indulgent and not very funny if you don't remember me from 2005-- and seriously, who the heck does?


**SQUACKIN!**  
_Oh, don't make me say it._

What The Scarred King and Queen Nala was really about.

Guys, I'm kidding. I was thinking about my bizarre recent obsession with psychotic, murderous, gay characters, and then I wondered what would happen if Scar was gay. WELL WHY NOT.

X

The truth of the matter is this: lions don't have Sex Ed.

Why should they? They're so uncivilized, fucking (and fucking with) each other left and right. Like some education about their, well, animalistic desires would even do them any good. It's unsolvable. They're ridiculous, it's no secret.

Humans really have it too easy, or so it seems when you think about it long enough. Just like everything else, their natural compulsions, their natural tendencies are softened, are smoothed out, are explained to them so as to avoid confusion.

Scar never could avoid that confusion.

When exactly do lions develop, sexually that is? Scar could never answer this question, because it seemed to him that he himself did it awfully late. He could remember his brother, Mufasa, expressing sexual desires long before he felt them himself. And when he did finally experience his own, he didn't recognize them at first. He'd always thought it would be obvious, that he would see a girl and... well, something would happen. Being honest with himself, he was never entirely sure what he was supposed to feel, but he knew he was supposed to. Feel. Something, at least.

A surge of emotion? A moment of intellectual clarity? Would there be some sort of physical response to the sight of a lovely female?

There did come a time when he began to notice more details. On the appearances... of females. He wondered, briefly, if this was what sexual attraction was all about, but in doing so he had forgotten one thing. The things he was noticing on the bodies of females were the things he _didn't_ like about them. An unpleasant fur color, a pair of eyes too close together.

The stupid thing about lion prides is the men are the only ones given a sufficient supply of eye candy. That is, the females were the only ones in enough supply to be whorish, the only ones to merit sexual attraction. When he wasn't hearing about Mufasa's latest animalistic desires, Scar would listen to Sarafina complain about the lack of such desires to be had. Honestly, he felt he related more to Sarafina's view of the situation.

Though he had more in common with Sarafina, Scar found he preferred to look at Mufasa. The sight of Sarafina only reminded Scar of her crooked nose and unshapely eyebrows. Even so, there came a time when Scar began to feel embarrassed about his lack of sexual interests. When he was nearly an adult, Sarafina told him she wanted more from him than just a friendship. Who was Scar to refuse?

Well, she seemed to enjoy it.

So he faked it. In order to make up for his lack of real attraction, he pretended to have excessive amounts of it. Scar fucked a lot of lionesses.

Mufasa was a problem. So he obliterated him. Scar wasn't above murder.

Of course, there are two sides to every story. And the counterpart to this one, ironically enough, is Nala's. Well, the guy she was betrothed to up and died. He was decent looking. Or so she remembered.

She didn't really remember, actually. As much as she moped and mourned for her "lost love," she honestly couldn't even remember what attracted her about him in the first place. Why were they friends, anyway?

There was another male in her pride, younger than her but not out of her range. What was his name? Fooka or Pooka or something like that. Ugly. Orangey in color, and scrawny and kind of mangy as well. She definitely didn't want to be with him.

Lions don't have Sex Ed. They don't even know what lesbianism is. Still, occasionally Nala would look toward other women, other lionesses, and wonder if they could offer her any more than dead Simba or mangy... what, Mooka? But then she would see that they all had blotchy fur, or creepy eyes, or, God forbid, both. And she would be forced to reconsider her... reconsideration.

Nala was a good girl. Responsible. Respected her elders, and those elders were starving. So she did what any good, responsible girl would do: she went to complain about it (their starvation) to the King.

Well, the King didn't listen. Instead he started talking about love, and the creation of immortality. Oh, yuck. Nala didn't want to fuck him either. But she had never felt a satisfactory amount of sexual attraction. And he seemed to want to. Who was she to refuse? So she faked it.

Lions don't have Sex Ed. Still, they somehow manage to understand the consequences of their actions.

Lions don't have Sex Ed. But they know how babies are created.

Lions don't have Sex Ed, and they probably never will. But do they really need it?


End file.
